


Beneath The Wing

by disastergays



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vague Spoilers, basically a loose retelling of the game so like, cryptid AU, look guys ryuji is having gay thoughts and cant run fast enough to escape them, sojiro raises two monster kids and is doing his best
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:03:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13077441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disastergays/pseuds/disastergays
Summary: Inaba was a place for humans and non-humans alike to live without fear. However when Akira finds himself in some trouble, and a criminal record drops into his lap, he finds that even in the country people don't want to associate with a troublemaker. Packing up for Tokyo, Sojiro takes Akira and his sister, Futaba, into the big city with the hope to give the two a chance at a normal life.Akira attracts trouble like the plague though, so things don't exactly go as planned.





	1. Its a valid question

**Author's Note:**

> A shameless monster au because I am w e a k
> 
> Warning for people who haven't beaten the game: This will follow the events of the game loosely, and will contain spoilers eventually for major parts of the story, so proceed with caution.

The streets of Tokyo were already bustling, even at this ungodly hour. From the open window behind him, Akira could hear people going on with their lives, loud and with little care to those who instantly regretted moving to the big city.

Back in Inaba things were quiet this early. He’d hear movement in the kitchen usually, Sojiro expertly brewing up some coffee for his largely nocturnal kids. Sometimes he’d hear the soft tunes of a radio, or Futaba rambling on about her interest of the month. Still, it was always muted, always soft, always made him feel safe and at home.

A deafening honk jerked him from his memories and into the very loud and _very_ grating present. With a sigh he ran a hand through his dark curls, irritated when he felt a stray feather sticking up. He smoothed it down, knowing it would vanish when he was more awake and in control of his magic.

“Someone’s not a morning bird.” Came a sing-song voice to his left.

Akira shifted his dull gaze to Morgana, a companion that had been by his side even before Sojiro fostered - and eventually - adopted him. The cat (?) hadn't bothered to put up his own glamour yet, instead he stretched out on the sheets and rolled onto his back, fixing Akira with a coy smirk.

Morgana’s face was entirely teeth, so it was more the _implication_ of one.

Akira had long gotten used to the vaguely feline creature with a leech’s face, though he knew full well Sojiro had not, so he hummed out a tired; “Put the teeth away, you know it creeps Sojiro out.”

“The shop doesn't open until after you leave. It takes _a lot_ of effort to look that good you know.” Morgana whined.

Akira ignored him and slipped on his other shoe, moving his foot around in it until it was comfortable. He stood and made his way to the stairs, grabbing his brand new bookbag as he descended, Morgana hot on his heels as usual.

Cafe Leblanc was already warm with spices and coffee hanging in the air. It curled around the homely interior, bringing the comfort one would associate with being home. Akira knew this place would be a hit. It had to be.

“Morning.” Came Sojiro’s gruff greeting. He was working over a pot of curry, examining it with a chef’s eye. A small gesture to the bar led Akira’s eyes to a plate of raw fish and hot coffee beside Futaba, who was already digging into her own meal of curry.

“Thanks.” He set the bookbag down on the ground next to him and immediately shoveled the food into his mouth.

“You're going to choke.” Futaba snorted, raising a brow at Akira’s ravenous appetite.

“I’m hungry.” Akira replied as he distinctly ignored her warning, only to actually end up choking.

“Idiot.”

“Weirdo.”

“Bird-brain.”

“Troll.”

“Kids, please.” Sojiro didn't bother to look up from the curry when he cut in, silencing the two effectively.

Morgana hopped up onto the stool beside Akira and placed his paws on the table with a dramatic wail, “Sojiro! Where is _my_ tuna?”

“Paws off the counter, we discussed this.” He responded, still not looking up from the garish yellow pot, “And put your glamour up, we don't need people peeking in the window to see your ugly mug.”

Morgana’s falsely insulted gasp was enough for Akira to nearly choke again.

 

* * *

 

What the fuck even _were_ trains?

Sure, he knew what trains were, obviously, he had been on them plenty before. However _this_ clusterfuck was something else entirely. It was designed to give poor country kids like himself panic attacks as they desperately tried to claw their way to school. Only to collapse on the ground, taken by the sea of people, knowing they would never arrive on time. Their lives would be ruined and they’d be homeless forever.

Honestly he had hoped his inevitable demise would have been more climantic.

Akira jerked forward when a claw hit the back of his head, “Stop panicking. Go to those escalators, they’re where you need to be.”

He immediately trotted to them, trying to not outright run, but knowing if he walked he would be too slow. Akira followed Morgana’s navigation, and thankfully, they arrived at Shibuya.

Akira almost wanted to cry tears of joy when he finally escaped the endless hallways of the station - only to step right into a deluge of rain. Now Akira _actually_ wanted to cry.

He darted under an overhang; he had forgotten his umbrella back at the cafe. Futaba was going to rib him endlessly when he returned tonight.

The bag on his shoulder shuffled as Morgana darted back inside. Akira would have questioned him, but a girl with light hair darted under the canopy beside him. A quick glance-over gave Akira the impression she was probably about his age. Did she go to the same school? The white jacket she was wearing covered up the school logo.

“What?”

Akira became painfully aware that he had been staring, so he offered her an unassuming smile, hoping to ease the tension that had visibly grown in her shoulders. It did.

“Shujin, huh? What year are you?” She inquired, an obvious attempt at striking up a friendly conversation.

“2nd.”

“Huh.” She seemed vaguely puzzled by something, and probably would have continued but a car driving up in front of them stopped her.

Immediately her shoulders tensed, jaw set, and eyes hardened. Akira could feel the coil of anxiety building inside of her from where he stood. His eyes flicked over when the car rolled it’s window down, showing a largely unassuming-looking man.

Akira didn't like him.

“Heya, want a ride?” His smile was directed at the blond beside him.

“Uh… Yeah. Sure.”  Her voice was small, hesitant, and she opened the door to slide in beside him.

Had they not been total strangers, Akira might have said something. He didn't know who she was though, much less what school she went to, so his lips remained sealed.

The man’s eyes lingered on her longer than appropriate, Akira was sure, but eventually flicked up to him. “Shujin, huh? You want a ride too?”

Akira smiled and waved his hand, a simple, wordless, ‘no thanks’.

The man shrugged, “Suit yourself.”

The defeated look of the girl when the window rolled up left an uncomfortable rock in his gut. There was little he could do as the car pulled away.

He felt Morgana’s fur tickling his cheek, a sign he was perched on his shoulder again. Maybe he could find her and talk to her, given the man’s notice of his uniform, she probably went to Shujin too.

A dart of yellow and black flashed across his vision.

Akira stared at the source as he groaned and hunched over, placing his hands on his knees.

“Damnit! That _fucking_ creep!” He spat, body quaking with anger and probably exertion.

Morgana ducked back into the bag, mumbling to himself about troublemakers. His voice must have been heard as the blonde teen’s head shot up with a snarl, “Whatdya’ say?”

Akira held up a hand in what he hoped would read as a white flag, Akira really didn't want to get into a fight his first day of school.

“You one of Kamoshida's fans?” He growled, and stood up after she shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Kamoshida?” Akira mumbled to himself, finally having a name for the face.

“Oh _come on,_ you go to Shujin and you actin’ confused?” His voice was still rough and abrasive, but held an air of confusion instead of anger.

“Wait… You must be the transfer student.” All traces of fight left his voice as he walked closer. “No wonder you don't know who he is yet.”

Akira gave a half-hearted smile, “I guess. Didn't know he was famous around here.”

The vulgar blond snorted, “More like infamous.”

“Infamous then.”

After a moment, the stranger broke into a smile. “Names’ Ryuji Sakamoto.”

Akira adjusted his bag and held out a hand, “Akira Sakura.”

Ryuji stared at the hand like it had sprouted feathers. Akira did glance down to make sure it hadn't, there were none. The obvious confusion in the blond’s face remained even so. Finally, Ryuji took his hand out of his pocket and hesitantly grabbed Akira’s own.

“Uh, nice to meet ya’ then.” Ryuji hesitantly spoke, an air of tension surrounding him.

“Likewise.”

Akira released Ryuji’s hand and shoved it in his own pocket, sorely aware of the awkwardness that formed between them.

“You're going to be late.” Morgana’s voice was muffled by the canvas of the bag, but it was loud enough for Ryuji to hear.

He shot Akira a raised brow, who quickly coughed into a fist, “ _We’re_ going to be late. You go to Shujin too, right?”

That got Ryuji’s attention, “Ah shit! You're right, come on. I know a shortcut.”

He didn't bother to wait for Akira’s response before he bolted around the corner, leaving Akira to shout a vague protest and stumble after him.

Asshole barely even looked back.

 

 

They had made it to the school just as the bell rang, students already filing in the front door. Ryuji panted and made a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, “Made it.”

“Shortcut? Yeah, _ok_.” Akira bit back.

“You were the one who made a wrong turn, you're lucky I bothered to come get your sorry ass.” Ryuji responded between bouts breathless laughter.

Akira shoved his shoulder in response, earning him a snort.

“What are you two doing? Get inside.”

Akira straightened immediately at the voice. It was one of the teachers. Immediately he smoothed out his uniform, a flustered attempt to make himself to look more presentable.

The teacher eyed Akira, then jerked his head to the doors, “You remember to where to meet Ms. Kawakami, yes?”

Akira nodded.

“Good. You best hurry there, watch who you associate yourself with. No need to get expelled hanging out with some poor influences.” The man said lightly, eyes shifting to Ryuji.

The blond lifted his lip but said nothing otherwise, instead he stuffed his hands in his pockets. The teacher clicked his tongue and shook his head as Ryuji walked past.

Akira was growing to like the faculty of the school a lot less the more he knew them.

 

* * *

 

The whispers were annoying.

Really annoying.

Akira didn't know how his peers found out about the… incident, but they knew, and they watched him with fearful eyes and loose lips.

_“Do you think he’ll go off the handle again?”_

_“I heard he’s always armed.”_

_“Why is he even here? It's not like he’d get into a university with his background.”_

Akira pulled out a simple bento of rice and curry from his bag. Sojiro had made it for him last night, it was a pleasant surprise. Akira usually packed his own lunch when he went to school in Inaba, but he guessed it was Sojiro’s way of wishing him good luck on the first day.

They had already known the instructors would be weary of him, with his criminal record and all, but he hadn't thought that the whole school would know about it.

It happened three years ago and it _still_ was haunting him.

He felt Morgana’s paw press against his stomach, a soft way for the cat to comfort him, while still hiding inside the desk.

“Thanks.” Akira whispered.

“For what?”

Akira glanced up when he heard the girl he had met earlier drop herself down onto her chair. She had left the room when the bell rang, probably to go eat with friends or something.

“My dad made my lunch today.” Akira responded evenly, it wasn't technically a lie.

Her light eyes glanced down at the half-eaten curry and back up to him. She shrugged and turned around, her attention going to her phone.

Akira wondered if there would be a place he could eat alone. Morgana couldn't talk in public, people would hear him, but he didn't like eating lunch in silence either. He’d explore the campus a bit after school, he decided.

One of the teachers walked in, and the bell rang.

Akira didn't get to finish his lunch. With a sigh he packed it up and turned his focus onto the lecture. Scribbling down notes as the woman continued to speak. Occasionally answering a problem when called upon. He did what he could to ignore the whispers that fanned through the room when as did.

It was the first day, Akira reminded himself, things would change.

 

* * *

 

Akira was one of the last people to leave the room. Partly because he was slow packing up, and partly because he was waiting for the room to empty out enough to slip Morgana in his bag without anyone noticing.

He held it open to the desk, and waited until Morgana settled himself in before finally standing and slinging it over his shoulder. Akira slipped out the door behind a pair of gossiping girls. He hugged the corner as he hooked around, stopping mid-step when he saw a familiar face leaning against the wall near the stairs.

Curious, Akira approached, “Hey.”

The blond looked like he almost jumped out of his skin, “Shit man, ya could've killed me.”

“Darn, well there’s always next time I guess.”

Ryuji’s smile was crooked, but held a surprising amount of friendliness.

Akira dug the toe of his shoe into the ground, ignoring the watchful eyes that were focused on them, “Who are you waiting for?”

Ryuji bounced off the wall with his shoulder, “You, actually.”

He clarified himself at Akira’s likely confused face, “Wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out or something, you seem pretty cool.”

“Where?”

Ryuji didn't seem to expect to get that far, given how he faltered and stuffed his hands in his pockets, “I don't know. Wanna go to the roof or something?”

Akira could feel the corners of his lips tug up, “I’m pretty sure we aren't supposed to go up there.”

“Please. A couple of delinquents like us don't have to follow the rules. Plus I go there all the time.”

Delinquent.

That was how the school saw him. How a lot of people saw him, really.

His expression must have fallen, because Ryuji grew alarmed and stammered out, “O-or I know a cool spot in the courtyard we could hang out. Not a lot of people are there after school.”

“Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“Sweet. Come on.”

Akira followed in step behind Ryuji as they descended the stairs and pushed their way out into the courtyard. He brought them to a small area with a bench, table, and some vending machines. As he had claimed, no one was there.

“There aren't any clubs that meet near here, so this part of the school empties out pretty fast.” Ryuji explained, dropping his bag on the table. He pulled out a pirate-themed wallet and eyed the vending machine with a barely contained lust.

Akira sat down and placed his bag on the table as well, though with a bit more care than Ryuji had.

“Like soda?” Ryuji piped, stuffing some yen into the drink machine.

Akira snorted, “If I said no, I’m pretty sure my sister would disown me on principle.”

“You have a sister?” Ryuji prodded as he dropped down on the bench beside Akira, offering him a strawberry soda. Akira accepted it happily.

“Yeah.” He cracked it open and took a sip, “Futaba.”

“Futaba? She look like you?” He inquired, gulping down half the can in a single swig.

“Not at all.” Akira laughed, “She has red hair, for one. Two, she is like, half my height.”

“Red hair? Huh. Thought my mom’d be the only one that’d let their kid dye their hair.”

“Oh so the blond isn't natural?” Akira wondered idly, taking another sip and adding, “Hers is natural. We’re both adopted, so we’ve got different parents.”

“Shit.” Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “Sorry if it's like a sore topic or something.”

“Nah. Sojiro has been a great dad to both of us, we’re happy to have him.”

“Oh… Well good.”

They spanned into silence, which despite what Akira would have thought, was actually pretty comfortable.

Eventually Akira decided to break it, “You've got any siblings?”

“Nope, just me an’ my mom.” He smiled behind the rim of the can, “Been just us for a while.”

Akira’s brows furrowed, “I see. Sorry.”

Ryuji waved off the concern, “Nah, don't worry about it. We’re better this way.”

While curious, Akira decided not to press the subject any further, it was not his place to intrude. The stiffness in Ryuji’s shoulders told Akira enough.

Akira enjoyed the silence for a little longer until Ryuji scrambled to his feet, “D-dude I think your bag moved!”

Oh right. Morgana was inside the zipped up bag. It was probably super stuffy in there, poor guy. Ryuji slinked around to the other side of the table, eyeing the backpack suspiciously - as if he expected some sort of demon to pop out of it.

And well, Morgana was inside, so it's not like he would have been too far off the mark.

Akira placed the half finished soda beside him as he stood, then zipped the bag open. Morgana popped his head out with a gasp, and thankfully, he was in full glamour.

“You brought _a cat_ to school?” Ryuji exclaimed.

Honestly Akira was proud of Morgana’s restraint, he could feel the indignation pouring off of him in waves.

“Yes, his name is Morgana.” Akira took a hold of one of his paws and waved it at Ryuji, pitching his voice up in a crude mockery, “He says ‘hello foolish mortal’.”

Morgana was not going to let him sleep tonight, if the scalding glare he received was any indication.

Ryuji let out a breath he had been holding and laughed, “You bring a pet to school, but are too scared to go on the roof.”

Akira shrugged and released Morgana’s paw.

“Is he friendly?” Ryuji inquired, coming closer to the table to peer at Morgana.

“Not really. He’s kind of an asshole, demanding too.”

That got him a full-blown laugh from Ryuji.

“What the hell man?” Ryuji leaned against the table, “Why did you even bring him with you?”

“He wanted to come.” Akira responded with a shrug, “Plus if I didnt he threatened to make a mess of my bedroom.”

Ryuji stared at him, somewhere between confused, a bit concerned, and flat out gleeful. He setted on shaking his head with a smile, “You're a weird one dude.”

“I’ve been told.”

Akira sat back down, and Ryuji joined him, almost knocking Akira’s soda over when he did.

“You wanna like, hit up the arcade or something?” Ryuji inquired, watching Morgana with a surprising amount of interest.

“Can’t today. If I came home too late Futaba would kill me.”

“Sounds she and Morgana have a lot in common.”

The absolutely insulted look Morgana shot them both sent them into peals of laughter. “Dude what kind of cat _do_ you have? I have never seen one make a face like that before!”

Morgana growled and turned his back to them with a huff.

Akira rolled his head to rest against the back of the bench once they had calmed, “How about this weekend? I gotta study, I’m a little behind the rest of my class.”

“Man, you're going to actually study?”

“Have to. Sojiro will grill me if I don’t get good grades.”

“Sounds like he’s strict.” Ryuji hummed, letting his head flop back on the bench as well.

“Kind of. It's the kind of strict where you know they just want what's best for you though, so it's fine.” Plus Sojiro had dealt with a lot raising both him and Futaba. A human raising one cryptid was almost unheard of, raising _two_ was saintly.

“Thats fair I guess.” Ryuji sat up and pulled out his phone, “Hey, you want to exchange numbers and chat IDs?”

Akira did the same, “Yeah.”

He leaned over to peer at the fellow student’s phone, seeing a flash if a pretty dark brown-haired woman on his home screen before Ryuji navigated to his contacts.

“Who was that?”

Akira leaned back a bit when Ryuji stiffened, his cheeks becoming noticeably darker. He mumbled something that Akira didn't hear, so he playfully nudged him, a smug grin dancing on his lips, “What's that? You're going to have to be a _bit_ louder.”

“My mom.”

“Dude thats adorable.”

Ryuji halfheartedly punched his shoulder, “Shut up.”

Akira opened up his phone and shoved it in the blond’s face. Ryuji scrunched his nose and lifted his lip, irritated that he had to pull back from the phone to actually get a look at what was on the homescreen.

His brown eyes studied it for a minute, before a genuine smile grew, “Heh. That's your family, right?”

Akira nodded, “Futaba, Morgana, Sojiro and… the corner of my finger.”

It was a picture taken back when they lived in Inaba. They had gone out for a picnic - Futaba’s idea - and had decided to have it on a field that overlooked the river. It was far enough away from town that you couldn't see the road anymore.

Sojiro was sitting cross legged on the ugliest plaid blanket one could have ever laid eyes on. It was supposed to be christmas themed, but much in the fashion of ugly christmas sweaters, the thing was absolutely horrendous. Futaba was laying on her stomach near Sojiro, holding Morgana hostage with his front legs in the air, forcing the cat to stand on only his back legs. The face of utter anguish really carried through the photo.

Akira’s finger made its debut when he tried to shield the lense of his phone from the sun, which really didn't help much, and only served to obstruct a corner of the image.

It was so stupidly charming that Akira set it to his home screen that day.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one who does that.” Ryuji hummed and offered his phone to Akira so he could type in his information, Akira did the same.

After contact information was successfully traded, the pair settled back into a comfortable silence.

A warmth spread through Akira’s chest. Back in Inaba he had a few acquaintances, people he’d talk to at school and the like, but friends werent something he really had after the incident. They distanced themselves from him, in a small town who you were seen around was everything.

A part of him hoped this would be the chance to regain a social life outside of his family. Perhaps it was desperation, but something inside Akira felt as though this was the start of something great.

A ‘pi’ from his phone snapped his attention down, it was Futaba.

 

 **Sugar And Spice:** bro where tf are you??

 **Sugar And Spice:** I’m hungry and dad wont let me eat util you and mona are home

 **Chemical X:** srry, on my way back now

 **Sugar And Spice:** you better fucking be

 **Sugar And Spice:** or i stg i’ll eat you instead

 **Chemical X:** kinky

 

“Popular?” Ryuji snorted, the corners of his lips tugged upwards in a smirk.

“Just Futaba. She is starving and Sojiro won't fead her until Morgana and I are home.”

“Horrible. Better save her from that tragic fate, eh?”

Akira laughed to himself, “Guess so.”

Resigned to his duty to save his sister, Akira rolled up onto his feet, and zipped up his bag to hide Morgana. Well mostly, he left an opening for the cat to stick his head out of once they left the school grounds.

Ryuji on the other hand just slung his bag over his shoulder with the grace of a drunk boar, “Hey, wanna hang durin’ lunch tomorrow?”

“Yeah, where do you wanna meet?”

“Ok so if I say the roof will you look all depressed on me again?”

Akira scoffed, “ _Please.”_ then added, “The roof is fine.”

“Nice. I’ll show ya how to get up there tomorrow, so get out as soon as the bell rings, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

The two made it to the bottom steps leading to Shujin Academy, and had to go their separate ways.

“Seeya tomorrow man.”

“Bye.”

A warm brush of fur graced his cheek, “Ugh. He seems like such a pian. Why’d you have to go making friends with _that_ troublemaker?”

 

* * *

 

 

Akira couldn't sleep. Not because of Morgana, surprisingly. If anything Morgana was the one that demanded he get a good night’s sleep and tuck in early. Akira learned there was no use arguing with the cat. He always got what he wanted in the end.

Akira unlocked his phone, squinting at the brightness of it in the dark. He couldn't text Futaba, she’d tell him to go to bed, Sojiro would actually kill him if he tried, and… He didn't really have any friends so that left a single contact for him to try and entertain himself with.

Thus Akira opened up a new message and started typing.

 

 **Akira:** ok so do you ever think about clapping??

 **Akira:** like hear me out

 **Akira:** you're basically hitting yourself because you are pleased by something

 

There was no immediate response, so Akira figured Ryuji was asleep. Or ignoring him. Ryuji had class in the morning too, so he probably shouldn't have texted the guy. Akira would feel kind of guilty if he had woken him up.

To his surprise, his phone chimed with a response.

 

 **Ryuji:** wtf dude

 **Ryuji:** its like 3

 **Akira:** sorry, did I wake you?

 **Ryuji:** nah

 **Ryuji:** do you normally have an existential crises at 3 in the morning?

 **Ryuji:** or is this like a special event

 **Akira:** depends on the night

 **Akira:** do you think mermaids see people as landmaids?

 **Akira:** or like, terramaids? Since terra is like for earth or something in english i think

 **Akira:** i mean we came from the ocean right?

 **Akira:** so are mermaids like, the original humans??

 **Ryuji:** …

 **Ryuji:** never change man

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a play off of Beneath The Mask, the song actually works for a cryptid / non-human au really well -- hence where I got the idea to do this. 
> 
> First chapters are always kinda sloppy, so I hope you guys like it regardless, and look forward to the next one!
> 
> Fun fact: Morgana is basically Glunkus


	2. Thieves of The Round Desks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a shot everytime Ryuji doubts himself
> 
> Don't actually do that, you'll die

Ryuji was the first one out of his class.

It was an easy thing to do. His seat is near the door, and with his things already packed up -- it wasn't like he payed attention in class anyway -- as soon as the bell rang he was _gone_.

He made it to the wall that led into the stairs just as 2-B was filing out of the classroom. With the knowledge that Akira would be out any minute, he rested his shoulder against the painted surface and waited.

After about a minute, Ryuji was already second-guessing himself. Akira said he’d come right out, did he forget? Lunch wasn't long, so they needed all the time they could get if they wanted to eat on the roof.

Ryuji knew he didn't miss the guy; he was too tall for that. Akira stood a good amount above most of his classmates, so spotting him within the wave of fleeing students should have been a no brainer. Kind of hard to miss a giant.

It wasn't like Akira was in all honesty that much taller than him, maybe half a head at best. The difference felt much greater though, Ryuji mused, since he couldn't be bothered to stand up straight. It hurt and was more effort than it was worth for him, so he simply never bothered.

The second minute ticked by.

He wasn't going to show, was he? _Figures_.

He sent one last hopeful glance to the classroom. To Ryuji’s surprise, Akira appeared from the door.

His grey eyes were glossy, and he was looking at the ground as he walked. Akira was either absolutely exhausted or in some seriously deep thought.

“Hey dude.” Ryuji waved, ducking down a bit to try and catch his eye.

It worked, and his new acquaintance (friend?) returned to the mortal plane.

Akira’s steps gained more of a purpose as he closed the gap between them. Ryuji shot him one of his most charming grins (if he did say so himself) and jerked his head to the stairs.

“Ready to break some rules?”

Akira shrugged, which was close enough to a yes that Ryuji wasted no time beginning his assent to the third floor.

Footsteps were not heard behind him.

He stopped about halfway up the first set and looked over his shoulder. Akira hadn't started climbing the stairs, instead he stood rooted to his spot and had his head turned away from Ryuji. He followed what would have probably been his gaze, and found it pointed right at two boys on the volleyball team.

Shit.

They were leaning against the window that opened up into the courtyard in the middle of the school. One of them had gauze around his head and a patch over his eye, there was bruising that near his neck that disappeared under the collar. The other had a large patch over his cheek, and was nursing what looked to be a sprained wrist.

They both looked miserable.

Ryuji bit his cheek, how could they not see what Kamoshida was doing to them was wrong?!

They had to! Yet whenever he cornered them about it, they would get angry at him and shove him away. Calling _him_ the bully.

“Are fights common in the school?”

He glanced down to Akira, his attention must have left the pair when Ryuji was fuming. He shook his head.

Eyes were starting to gather. He could see them from his peripheral, some students standing off to the side, muttering to each other as they looked on and judged. Whispers started to cloud the air, Ryuji felt sick.

Shame burned the back of his neck, just by associating with him Akira was being branded as a troublemaker.

His apparent criminal record probably didn't help the case any either.

Ryuji looked Akira over, if the hushed rumours were getting to him he certainly wasn't letting it show.

What did he even do? What _could_ he have done?

There was more to him than just the surface, Ryuji was sure of that, but the guy was also built like a beanpole. He was thin, probably unhealthily so, and looked like he could be knocked over by a strong breeze. Whatever muscle he did have was slim to none.

People were starting to gather. Ryuji nodded to the stairs and resumed his climb, this time footsteps echoed closely behind him.

He led Akira down a hall that let out to another smaller one, then led to another set of stairs, and eventually, to the roof. It was a convoluted way to get there, but it was tucked away enough that few people ever came. He hadn't been caught coming up there yet, and he spent the latter half of his first year and the entirety of his second one so far up there.

He gestured to a ring of desks he had set up at the end of last year. Old desks that were damaged or vandalized too much to be salvaged were thrown up here to rot. Not worth the effort to get rid of, but not acceptable for the school’s public image. Ryuji felt a kinship with them.

The desks had been pushed together to form a circle, a chair assigned to each desk. He had hoped that he could coerce some other exiles to sit up here with him, in a ‘Knights of the Round Table’ sort of fashion. Heroes that were brought together by a righteous will.

Perhaps a knight wasn't a good fit though, given the circumstances.

Maybe a thieves guild would have been more apt. Ryuji found he liked that idea a lot more, a band of outcasts, coming from all walks to find a place they belonged. Bound together through hardship and perseverance.

Yeah, he liked the sound of that.

Then again, he always tended to like the villains in stories more anyway.

Akira, either not noticing Ryuji’s wandering thoughts, or not caring, strode past him and set his black bag gingerly on the table. He unzipped it and released the cat held inside.

Morgana’s presence startled Ryuji admittedly, he hadn't expected the local criminal to carry a cat around with him _constantly_. Though Ryuji wondered how much of that was Akira wanting the cat to be near him versus the cat demanding it. The way it’s blue eyes stared him down and the irritated flicks of his tail led Ryuji to believe the latter.

Ryuji collapsed on the desk chair beside Akira, who had made himself comfortable and already taken out his lunch.

His stomach rumbled at him, so Ryuji dropped his own bag on the desk ring and dug out his lunch: leftover nikujaga he made last night. He popped the lid open and fished around for the spoon that was hiding somewhere between his school supplies, eventually he found it and brandished it as a worthy weapon.

Akira chuckled beside him.

Akira’s own lunch was plain to say the least. It was just sashimi of various kinds, Ryuji didn't know much about fish so he had no idea what Akira would be feeding himself with today. It hardly seemed like a filling lunch though. Or a balanced one.

Akira used some chopsticks and laid out a couple slices for Morgana on the desk, who eagerly scarfed them down with the bloodlust of a shark. What a pig.

Ryuji raised a brow and watched Akira hook his toes into the slot under the desks and push back, balancing on the back two legs of the chair precariously. He swayed occasionally, having to adjust his feet to keep himself from falling back.

It would be a lie to say the thought of pushing him over had not crossed his mind.

“What was up with those two guys near the window?”

Ryuji figured Akira would have asked about them sooner or later. He sighed and leaned back in his chair as well, though not as far, “They’re part of the volleyball team.”

Akira’s silence spurred Ryuji to continue, “The injuries they have, they’re from Kamoshida. He did that to them.”

Stone grey eyes widened considerably behind thick glasses, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Ryuji spat, “He physically abuses his teams and ‘effin gets away with it too! Just because he was in the Olympics or some shit. He doesn't just abuse the volleyball players either, he--”

Ryuji cut himself short, the sharp throb in his leg felt like a warning. His throat is too dry for this shit. Instead of continuing to talk, Ryuji popped open some strawberry soda from his bag and chugged that.

“Isn't there _anything_ that we can do? Or that can be done for them?”

“I dont know… I’ve tried everything I can think of.” Ryuji felt the can crunch in his fist, “No one wants to be seen talking to a troublemaker like me. I thought if maybe one of the students confessed to the beatings the school would… I don't know.”

He started shoving his food in his mouth, anything to keep him from talking more. Ryuji didn't want to deal with the topic anymore, it was too raw.

Ryuji still braced himself for the coming questions, Akira likely had plenty more to prod him with. Yet… Silence spanned between them, and Ryuji realized that Akira didn't seem interested in asking anything else.

Whether that be because of Ryuji’s clear disdain for the topic, or Akira just not caring, he found himself relieved at the quiet.

He guzzled down the rest of his lunch and closed the container.

“What’s it like where you're from?” Ryuji found himself asking.

“It's a small town.” Akira responded, his tone light, “The kind of place where everybody kind of knows everybody. Quiet too usually, the most exciting place there is Junes, though if you asked any resident they'd point you to the local Inn.”

Akira’s smile faltered, “That meant once you got a record there was no going back from it though.”

“Damn, dude.” Memories of heated words, shouting, and the connect of flesh under his fist, followed sharply by the deafening crack of bone under a heel filled his mind. Ryuji quickly shook it away.

“I grew up there though, and got to stay there when Sojiro adopted me after my parents died.”

Oh.

Well, shit.

Guilt boiled in his stomach. After his father left them (finally) he pitied himself. The broken spawn of a broken man. Yet even through that, and to this day, he still has his mother. Ryuji didn't like to think of where he’d be now without her.

To lose both parents must have been impossibly hard.

Ryuji stole a glance at Akira who, even with what he had just dropped, didn't look troubled at all. Either this guy had the poker face of a god --honestly Ryuji could see it-- or he simply was not upset about the death of his parents.

He honestly hoped it was the former.

Akira continued to explain, “They traveled all the time when I was younger, so I was largely raised by my Uncle for the first half of my life. I saw him more than I saw my _actual_ parents.”

“Why didn't he adopt you then?” Ryuji found himself asking before his filter even had a chance to process the words spilling from his mouth.

Akira’s brows pinched up, and he glanced down at his fish, then off to the side with a simple and quiet, “He… wasn't allowed.”

Ryuji’s filter managed to stop him from prodding into the matter further. Whatever the reason, Akira was uncomfortable by it, and it wasn't even Ryuji’s business. He decided to do the smart thing and let the topic go before he had to shove _more_ of his foot in his mouth.

“Since my Uncle couldn’t take me, I was given to Sojiro since was already raising a kid… like me.”

That meant Futaba was an orphan as well it seemed. The hesitance in Akira’s voice told ryuji this loud and clear.

Ryuji was a really touchy-feely kind of guy, or so he was told. Maybe it was because he was a ‘momma’s boy’ but words had always been poor substitutes for touch. His mother’s arms around him said more than anything she could have spoken.

So taking a page out of her book, Ryuji leaned over and threw his arm around Akira’s broad shoulders, “That's rough.”

Akira stiffened at the initial contact, but after a moment the tension eased, “It is what it is. I’m happy as things are now.”

Ryuji patted the shoulder his hand hung limply off of, “My father left my mom and I just over three years ago.”

The only response he received from Akira was quiet staring. His eyes were dark and almost owl-like in appearance, honestly it was pretty fucking creepy. Especially paired with the complete silence from him.

Though Ryuji was quickly learning that Akira in general was kind of creepy. Just a part of what made the apparent criminal who he was, he figured. Ryuji knew he could be callous and brash, so if Akira put up with his temper, Ryuji could put up with his occasionally eerie personality.

Ryuji took the silence as a cue to keep talking, “The man was a scumbag, he’d… _Do_ things to my mother and I when he came home or got drunk. When he didn't come home for a couple of nights, Mom an’ I moved as soon as we could… Haven’t seen him since.”

If he were honest, Ryuji didn't know why he was telling akira these things. Maybe it was because he felt out of anyone, Akira would be the one to understand. Maybe because he’d rather have Akira learn of it from his own mouth, and not from whispers and rumors that’d inevitably float around enough for him to hear.

It was no secret what his father did to him, not after Kamoshida let the information slip _that_ day.

Ryuji thrummed his fingers against Akira’s shoulder, he had forgotten his arm was still around him. He looked over to Morgana, who had taken up the opportunity to sprawl out over a couple of desks, “To be honest, I’m kind of scared he’ll come back.”

“If he does I’ll kick his ass.”

The complete certainty in Akira’s voice caused Ryuji to sputter his surprise. He shook his head with a humourless laugh, “Thanks, but it’s not like _you’d_ be able to do much to him.”

Akira shifted under his arm, and Ryuji glanced up to watch him. It was clear Akira had every intention of protesting it, but before he could form the words, he stopped himself. Instead, he just smiled.

Well, sort of.

The corners of his eyes lifted and his mouth twitched up. It was sly, that much he could tell, as if Akira knew something that Ryuji did not.

Ryuji shook his head, deciding to let Akira keep whatever juicy secret he seemed to have to himself, and offered a simple, “I appreciate the thought, I guess.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are bro.” Ryuji responded with a vaguely condescending pat to Akira’s shoulder.

The certainty did garner Akira another look though. What exactly _did_ he do to warrant the criminal record? He was way too eager to assault his father.

Though in all fairness Ryuji would be more than happy to punch the man’s lights out himself. He ignored the pang of fear that pricked along his skin, forcing goosebumps to form. He could face him if it ever happened, _he could._

Still, Ryuji couldn't say he’d ever had an acquaintance (friend??) so completely willing to throw down with his abusive father. It was kind of nice.

Weird as shit.

But nice.

Ryuji removed his arm from around Akira’s shoulders, and pointed to his box of raw fish, “Yo we got like five minutes before the bell rings and we gotta head back to class. Finish your lunch dude.”

“Okay _mom_.”

 

* * *

 

Akira was a goddamn enigma.

Ryuji continued to stare at him from across the table in a vague act of rebellion. Akira didn't even look up from the papers that were spread out before him.

The guy was completely focused on the worksheets they had been handed for homework. His glasses were pushed up to the top of his head, both keeping the black curls from dropping into his face when looking down, and getting slowly eaten by them as time progressed. Ryuji was pretty sure they’d have to cut his hair to free the lenses from the tomb it created.

If that weren't a strange enough sight, Akira balanced the pencil he was _supposed_ to be writing with on his puckered lips. The utensil lightly teetered back and forth, but somehow remained where it had been placed about five minutes ago. Ryuji had to wonder if Akira was actually reading, or just spacing out while pretending to.

For that matter, he had to wonder what sort of black magic Akira called forth to actually convince Ryuji to tag along.

No one.

And Ryuji meant _no one._

Had ever successfully gotten him to agree to a study session.

Yet there he sat, in some diner, doing just that.

His eyes narrowed at Akira --who by the way Ryuji was completely convinced _knew_ he was staring at him-- and wondered how long it’d take for his acquaintance (friend???) to say something.

Akira didn't even look up when the waitress delivered the drinks that he had ordered. Ryuji thanked her offhandedly, and pulled his iced tea closer to to drink, refusing to take his eyes off Akira. More to prove a point than any actual reason, if he were honest.

Eventually, still without even a glance up from his homework, Akira acknowledged him, “Stop staring at me and do your own homework man. That's the whole point of this you know.”

Ryuji groaned, “Why? It's not like we are going to ever actually use this information.”

“Just do it.”

Another dramatic sigh escaped him, but Ryuji relented and shifted his focus to the papers in front of him. Part of him just wanted to daydream while pretending to think about the problems, but he was already there, might as well try a little.

Even being resigned to his fate, frustration already began to bubble up in his gut. Ryuji barely paid attention in class, so reading even the first problem was like trying to read another language. It was just embarrassing.

The problem was about some guy named Plato, and some bullshit that apparently made up a soul. How was he supposed to know that? For that matter, who even _cared_ what a soul was made up of?

Ryuji certainly didn't.

A light tapping on the top of his paper snapped him back to reality. He looked up to see Akira watching him, and more importantly, holding his pencil like a normal human being.

“Plato saw the soul as made of three core things.” Akira began, “Things that everyone, no matter who they are, have.”

Ryuji leaned back in the booth with a grunt, “Hunger? I am starving dude.”

A light chuckle was his response, “Actually, appetite is one of them.”

“Shit, really?” He definitely had not expected to get something right. It was certainly a first.

What things would make up a soul? Probably some cheesy stereotypical bullshit, teachers seemed to snort metaphors up like drugs.

“Uh… Greed?”

Akira shook his head.

“Love?”

“Love is more of an emotion.” He explained.

“Shit… Brains?”

Akira gave a small smile, “Logic, but yes.”

“Thats _bull_ , I know people who don't have an ounce of logic inside them.”

Akira attempted --and failed-- to hold back a laugh, resulting in a painful-sounding honk.

“Y’know it's true.”

“Even the stupidest of people have logic behind their actions, never said that logic had to be _sound_ though.”

Ryuji snickered, “Fair enough man, fair enough.”

He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, “Alright. Uhh, courge? Guts? Sins like I don't know... anger or somethin’?”

“You are on the right track with courage and guts.” Akira’s voice was low and encouraging.

“Bravery? Resolve? Morale?”

Black curls bounced when Akira shook his head, “You're really close. Its broader than that; think of something that could encompass all those.”

Ryuji scratched his temple. Something that’d encompass them?

“Spirit?”

Akira’s eyes lit up instantly, “That's it.”

That… Actually felt pretty good. He felt smart, not really something Ryuji experienced in quite some time. Maybe he could get used to it. He grabbed Akira’s pencil from his hand and filled the answer in.

Before Ryuji could say anything, Akira had already moved onto the next problem. He was on a roll, so they continued like that for a while. Akira walking him through each problem, and helping him solve them. Even when Ryuji started to feel irritation fester inside of him, and frustration started to get the better of him, Akira remained calm and collected. He guided him through each one, not getting angry at Ryuji, or lashing out at him for being a moron.

It was… Nice. Really nice.

No one ever had the patience to help him like Akira did. They’d get angry back, or just give up on him, even back when he wasn't seen as a problem child. Getting good grades were never his strong suit.

“That was the last problem. Good job!” Akira praised, he actually appeared to be genuinely happy.

Ryuji rubbed the back of his neck, “Heh, thanks man. Couldn't have done it without you.”

“You mean _wouldn't_.”

“Well, yeah that too.” Ryuji chuckled, “But seriously. Thanks for like, not giving up on me or somethn’.”

Akira did the weird stare thing again. As unsettling as it was, Ryuji rode it out in hopes of an explanation. Eventually, he did get one. Sort of.

“It was no trouble, Ryuji.”

His eyes flicked down to Akira’s untouched homework, “You spent the whole time helping me. Ya didn't get any of your own work done.”

Akira shrugged, “It's the same as yours for the most part, I already know all the answers.”

“...Then why bother having a study session at all?”

“Teaching someone is the most effective way of learning something.” He explained and started the ultimately hopeless task of untangling his glasses, “Besides, it was an excuse to hang out longer.”

“ _Dude_.”

How Akira was able to say that with such a straight face was far beyond Ryuji. So he just kind of looked away and laughed it off.

Akira sensed Ryuji’s uncertainty --because _of course_ he did-- and gave the most shit-eating grin he had ever seen, “What, am I not allowed to want to spend time with my friends?”

Friends?

Ryuji was cautious in thinking of Akira as a friend. Too many times he let someone close and they stabbed him in the back, or watched as his life was ruined in a single crack. Bone shattered the illusion of a family Ryuji thought they had. It had been simple wishful thinking on his part he knew, he had been so desperate for something, anything, to make him feel less empty inside. He latched onto the track team’s underbelly like a leech, no a _parasite_ , feasting off of his host before eventually killing it in his greed.

“...Ryuji?”

He blinked and rose his eyes from the table to meet Akira’s. They were not very expressive, but he could see something that might have been concern in them, or maybe fear.

“We… We are friends, right?”

Were they?

Ryuji looked back down at the finished homework, then up to Akira. Maybe it was stupid to hope, but stranger things already happened.

“Yeah. Yeah we are, buddy.”

 

* * *

 

Ryuji stared up at the ceiling silently. He was too tired to actually sleep, because his body hated him or something. Eventually he sat up and rubbed the heel of his palm over his thigh and down his knee, it started raining on the way home from the diner Akira and he had studied at, and his leg was always sore when the weather changed.

He rested his cheek on his good knee, fingers dancing over the scar where they had to cut him open to fix him.

Didn't really fix him though. Like glueing an arm back onto an action figure, at the end of the day it was just for display, never to move the way it was meant to again.

Ryuji loved to run. The rush he got, the way everything hurt in the _best way,_ track was more than just a place he wanted to belong. It was something he truly enjoyed doing, and thanks to Kamoshida, he’d never run again. Not like he used to, anyway.

Why even try if he knew he’d never be as good as he once was?

His phone lit up the dark room, a ping breaking the silence that had grown to be suffocating.

Ryuji leaned over to his bed stand and grabbed it, Akira had texted him again. It was 2AM this time, better than 3, he supposed. Still, a smile spread through his whole body as he unlocked his phone to read it.

 

 **Akira:** your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed

 **Ryuji:** dude what??

 **Akira:** we learn to read until we read to learn

 **Akira:** we will never actually know what is smells like underwater

 **Akira:** do you think fish wonder what it smells like on land?

 **Ryuji:** level with me here buddy

 **Ryuji:** are you just googling shower thoughts and texting me your favorites?

 **Akira:** i plead the fifth

 **Akira:** the fish one was mine

 **Ryuji:** its 2

 **Ryuji:** we have class tomorrow dude go to  b e d

 **Akira:** im nocturnal fuck you

 **Akira:** (ง'̀-'́)ง

 **Ryuji:** im removing you from my contacts

 **Akira:** babe wait i can change

 **Ryuji:** g o o d n i g h t

 **Akira:** gnight dude

 **Akira:** roof again???

 **Ryuji:** yeah

 **Ryuji:** see you there buddy

 

He stared at the screen a while longer, then flopped onto his back and let his phone fall on his chest. It didn't take long for exhaustion to overtake him this time, Ryuji looked forward to seeing the expression on his teacher’s face when he turned in his homework tomorrow.

Ryuji remembered some leftover mochi balls from a pit stop last week he did on his way home from the arcade, he wondered if Akira liked mochi.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo boy. Ryuji, man, get some help my dude  
> Fun fact: Friendship is only legit after questioning it no less than three (3) times
> 
> Can you tell writing Ryuji is easier than Akira for me??  
> Anyway! Plot'll start happening soon, gotta develop the groundwork for that sweet sweet bromance


	3. Ryuji Needs a Filter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Morgana, are the bags under my eyes that noticeable?”
> 
> “Yes.”

The students were rather animated today. He had noticed it on his way to school, his peers walked in clustered groups, all talking in bated breaths. They were excited. The only hint he got as to the reason was a boy in passing mentioning something about Volleyball. Perhaps they were having a meet.

Akira didn't really care, if he were totally honest. After what he learned of Kamoshida, anything regarding the coach was pushed from his mind. Just thinking about the man made his blood boil.

He sat down and opened up his bag discreetly so Morgana could slide into the desk.

He’d be meeting Ryuji again for lunch. It had become something of a routine now. He’d leave class as soon as Morgana was tucked away, and meet Ryuji by the stairs, where they’d go to the roof together.

Akira questioned once why he waited for him there each day. His response was to bounce his leg and glance off to the side with a tight, “We’re goin’ to the same place anyway. Might as well walk together.”

It was nice. Though a part of Akira had a feeling that he was just making sure he didn't get lost.

You make a wrong turn _one_ time, and suddenly you’re directionally challenged.

“Hey, where are you from?”

Akira shook his head and gave himself a moment to regain his barings. He moved his gaze from the window to find the blonde that sat in front of him staring. Her brows furrowed and lips pulled into a tight line, she seemed nervous.

He cleared his throat, “Inaba. It's a small town, about four hour train ride away.”

Her eyes widened a bit, though Akira couldn't understand why. It was a relatively unknown place to humans, as far as he knew. Even among his kind, it wasn’t some hotspot everyone knew about.

Perhaps it was a well known spot for cryptid hunters? Akira never paid much attention to the tourists they got, too busy doing his own thing.

Still, his answer seemed to satisfy her and she turned around and started texting someone on her phone. He chewed the inner part of his cheek, he hoped he wasn't contributing to some likely out of hand rumor.

She didn't seem too bad though, so perhaps it was just genuine curiosity? Akira hoped that was the case.

The teacher for the day called the classes attention, looking rather bored herself. The bell rang, and Akira settled himself in for another day of class.

 

* * *

 

When the bell for lunch rang, Akira didn't think he could have heard a sweeter sound.

Ms. Kawakami had surprised him with a question, and he fumbled his words, to which a good portion of the class to snickered at him for. Her brow twitched with irritation as she called on another classmate.

Akira had hoped the ground would swallow him whole. Alas, the universe was not feeling merciful today, as he found himself still very much alive. He opened his bag and let Morgana hop into it, he’d feel better after some lunch.

He ducked his head and stepped out of the classroom. There were less rumors circulating, everyone seemed too excited for whatever was happening tomorrow. If it kept people’s eyes off him, he didn't care the reason. Relief washed over him, even if it’d only be temporary, it was a nice change of pace.

“Hey man!”

Akira lifted his head and offered Ryuji a placated smile, it was good to see him.

“Ready to eat? I for one am famished.”

“ _Famished?_ Bringing out the big words today, eh?”

Ryuji snorted a laugh and punched his shoulder, “Ass.”

Not wasting any time, Ryuji bounded up the stairs two steps at a time. He wasn't kidding, Akira pitied anyone who stood in his way, Ryuji looked ready to break into a Big Bang Burger.

About halfway up the first steps a sensation that made his true self’s feathers ruffle shot up his spine. He was being watched.

He stopped and turned his head to study the students behind him. Most seemed to not be giving him the time of day, as expected, but a pair of girls who stood near the entrance of one of the classrooms, seemed to be the source of the feeling.

It was more than just being watched though. Something uncomfortable settled in the pit of his stomach, as if he had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to.

Then with the force of a train, Akira was struck with two revelations.

One, he was in territory he didn't not stake his claim over.

Two, he was not the only cryptid in the school.

_Shit._

He studied the girls with a renewed interest, he recognized the blonde from his class, though the girl beside her was someone he didn't recall seeing before. She didn't appear hostile, neither of them did, but they stared at him with the same caution he did to them.

Were the both like him?

No, Akira doubted it. _It still is a possibility though,_ he reminded himself.

Which of them was the cryptid then? Much less, what kind?

Most like him were territorial by nature, century-old fears of humans and remnants of wars long past were deeply ingrained into their base instincts. Losing what was precious to them was almost a right of passage for his kind at this point, it was no wonder so many grew possessive of what they had left.

Though there was a distinct difference between territorial of a location and of an object. Though, as he looked between the two girls, _person,_ seemed to be the likely case. Mates, perhaps?

The blond shifted her grip on the other’s arm, she looked uncomfortable.

She was probably the cryptid then, given how the black haired girl hardly seemed bothered. Likely she didn't know the situation.

Of course, he wouldn't know for sure unless he brought them to Futaba. Then he’d know which one wasn't human, and exactly what they _really_ were. It’d be weird to invite them to the cafe without knowing them though, so he’d just have to settle on his best guess.

A pressure on his forearm snapped him back to reality. He looked up to see Ryuji holding his arm. Akira looked back over his shoulder to find the two gone without a trace.

“Dude _come on,_ you can do that creepy stare thing _after_ we get lunch.” Ryuji whined, giving Akira’s arm a sharper tug.

“C-creepy stare?”

Ryuji shot him a withering glance, then started back up the stairs, all but dragging Akira behind him. It wasn't _that_ creepy, right?

Having faith in Ryuji’s ability to lead him down a series of halls, he shot Futaba a quick text.

 

 **Chemical X:** I don't have a creepy stare do I??

 **Sugar and Spice:** the creepiest (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

 **Chemical X** : Wow thanks

 **Sugar and Spice:** (☞ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞

 **Sugar and Spice:** you're an owl

 **Sugar and Spice:** staring at things in an unsettling manner is like in the job description or something

 

He supposed she did have a point. Still, he wasn't _technically_ an owl. Akira probably would have texted her as such, but they had reached their destination. He pocketed his phone and let Morgana free while he dug for his lunch.

By the time Akira had settled in Ryuji was already half done with his own meal, “Don’t choke.”

He ignored the warning.

When Ryuji finished inhaling his meal, he snapped the lid back on and turned his full attention to Akira, “What the hell was that?”

“What?”

“You just kinda stopping in the middle of the stairs like that. You were totally staring down Ann and Shiho, what’d they do to you?” Ryuji clarified while he cracked open a soda and offered it to him.

“Thanks.” Akira accepted the gift and took a sip, “They were staring at me first. I don't think they like me.”

“Nah, that's just Ann. The, uh, blonde one. She’s pretty prickly, you probably just looked at her funny or something.” He waved off the concerns with a flick of his wrist, “She’s like that with everybody but Shiho… And Kamoshida.”

That… Didn't sound right.

Akira distinctly remembered Ann’s sudden demeanor change when Kamoshida had picked her up the first day of class. She had been friendly enough up to that point.

Though that was before she likely knew who he was… And potentially _what_ he was.

She at least didn't seem like the sort to stand for what Kamoshida was doing to their fellow peers. Of course he had no proof of this, just base speculation. Even so, something just didn't feel right about the whole situation.

Ryuji threw his arm around Akira’s shoulders, and lightly thumped his upper arm with his fist, “You better start eating before you get any thinner, bro.”

Akira rolled his shoulders so the spiked band on his friend’s wrist no longer dug into his neck, “Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey… The Volleyball Ralley is tomorrow.” Ryuji’s voice was low when he spoke, as if speaking the words was dangerous in itself.

Akira stopped eating and looked over to Ryuji, his leg was bouncing again. Given by the glare he was giving it, the action was probably a subconscious one.

“So?” Not overly hungry, Akira popped the lid back on his bento. “I heard some students this morning mumble something about it.”

“It’s Kamoshida’s chance to show off an’ eff students up that aren't on the team.” Ryuji’s fingers started to tap out a rhythm on his shoulder, “Its a mandatory event, so you gotta show up… I wanted to warn ya, you know?”

“Oh boy, I sure love the threat of my face getting rearranged in the morning.” Akira drawled in response, “Can’t wait.”

It got a genuine laugh out of Ryuji, a sound that warmed Akira’s heart. Upset wasn't a good look on his friend, and he’d be damned in he let the expression linger.

Still.

“He can't seriously be able to do that, can he?”

Ryuji sighed, “He’s gotten away with worse.”

Akira reached up and patted the arm resting on his shoulder. There wasn't much to be said, nothing that’d really matter anyway. It was a shitty situation, and nobody was doing anything about it.

“Hey so I was thinkin’...” Ryuji began, eager to move to a different topic, “Do you want to get together Sunday and read some Manga?”

“Manga?” Akira mused and rested the back of his head on the arm still draped over him, “Yeah… Yeah actually that’d be nice. We can do it at LeBlanc, I have the whole attic to myself.”

Morgana yowled incessantly.

“... And Morgana.”

Ryuji chuckled, “He sure is talkative for a cat.”

“Oh you have _no_ idea.”

 

* * *

 

The atmosphere in the cafe was warm. Just walking in was like draping a blanket around his shoulders. How much of that was the cafe itself, versus the familiar presence of his family could be questioned. Regardless, it was quickly cementing itself as a safe haven for Akira.

Even the gentle air of the cafe did little to bring his thoughts from the warning Ryuji had given Akira earlier that day. Morgana was quiet himself for once, a rarity that probably would have called for celebration under normal circumstances.

“Alright.” Sojiro’s voice broke through the haze, accentuated by the cup of coffee he set in front of Akira, “What happened?”

He eyed Sojiro, not quite looking up from his plate of curry just yet.

“Kid, I’ve known you long enough to see when something’s up. Spit it out.”

“There is a Volleyball Rally tomorrow.”

Sojiro crossed his arms, “Do you want to start playing?”

Akira’s mind went to the beat up students, and spat out “No, never.”

“That's quite a hostile response for a sport you’ve never played.” Sojiro remarked with a raised brow.

“It's not the sport, it's the coach.” Akira deflated, “He… He abuses his students. They’re covered in bandages and half of them have to use crutches.”

Futaba piped in with, “Well I mean you are spiking balls at each other, I wouldn't be surprised if there were a few busted lips here and there.”

“No, I mean they have bruises around their _necks,_ bandages on their head, their cheeks, some look like they can barely stand… Its… Bad.”

“He’s right. There are sports injuries, and then there’s what happening to those kids.” Morgana supplied from the stool beside him.

“And no one is doing anything about it! Not the students themselves, not the parents, and certainly not the fucking teachers!” Akira snarled, “And tomorrow is all about celebrating that, because Kamoshida is some damn gift from God or _whatever_ the fuck their excuse is. It makes me sick.”

A sharp clang from his right signaled Futaba slamming her fork down on the bar, “We should plant a hidden camera then! Catch him abusing them, and then post it online anonymously, let the witchhunt be done from there. Slander his name, and ruin the bastard. It’d be easy just -”

“No. Absolutely not.” Sojiro cut in, “Futaba that is _illegal,_ you know that.”

“Well so is what he is doing! He’s hurting them and if no one is helping, I-I can't just sit by and let that slide too!” She screamed, voice shrill and laced with emotion.

Sojiro’s sharp gaze softened, “I know, I know.”

The man sighed and leaned back against the shelves of coffee beans, “I know you want to help, trust me, but you can't get involved. Especially you Akira, you have to lay low.”

“Why? So he can just keep doing whatever he wants to them?” Akira snapped despite himself.

“We don't want a repeat of three years ago.” Sojiro reminded calmly. His tone was gentle, the same he used to comfort him when he was young and fought his new foster parent tooth and nail.

Or talon, in his particular case.

He was right though. He was right and Akira _hated_ it.

The pressure from the hand between his shoulder blades was a calming one. When they were children, Futaba would sit on him when he ‘started freaking out’ as she so delicately put it. It was right between where his wings would be, if he were to drop his glamour.

He slumped, no longer as wound up, and muttered a thanks to Futaba.

“I’ll call the school and see what I can't get out of the Principle. Express my concerns as a doting parent and whatnot.” Sojiro waved his hand dismissively.

Akira was assured that he’d start putting pressure in the right places. It wouldn't be enough for a change, but at least it’d maybe hesitate Kamoshida’s hand. Even if only a little.

“Now both of you, finish your dinner. I don't want either of you starving under my care, you got that?”

“Yes dad.” He and Futaba chimed in unison.

A tender smile graced Sojiro’s lips, “Good.”

 

* * *

 

Morgana was lounging on Akira’s partly empty desk. He had fit himself between the trinkets and books that littered the surface like a puzzle piece. It looked ridiculous, and was probably uncomfortable, but the cat (?) weathered through it on pride alone.

“When are you going to have fish again? I miss fatty tuna.”

“We had it last week, remember?” Akira pointed out, stretching his fingers until they popped.

“We haven't had it this week though.”

“Raw fish is expensive, I already eat a lot as it is.” He responded, shifting his weight so his talons had a better grip on the bed’s edge.

Akira couldn't drop his glamour completely here, he was just too big. He’d be able to fit sitting down in the middle of the room, maybe. So much of a wing twitch would probably knock everything over though. Sojiro would be furious if he busted a bag of coffee beans open.

A middle ground was still needed. Akira couldn't constantly maintain a human form, it was too taxing on his body. It wasn't something he needed to worry about back in Inaba, given he could just walk out the back door and go for a midnight flight whenever he wanted.

In Tokyo however… Not as easy. The city never was fully asleep, since they had arrived he had not a single chance to give his magic a break. It was getting exhausting. Sojiro said they’d visit their old house (Sojiro technically still owned it, they just didn't actively live in it anymore) for a weekend, so Akira could recharge. He hasn't said when, but it’d be soon, he was sure.

So, a half transformation was the best he got.

It at least let his wings out, which was like taking off a size too small shirt. As soon as he took his shirt off and let them out it was like he could breathe again. Luckily, they were not as big in his current state as they’d be normally, they were about as a little taller than he was and when placed in the middle of the room, the tips of his wings could easily touch either side.

Currently they were just lazily draped behind him like a blanket hanging loosely off his shoulders. It was comfortable.

He was comfortable.

“You do eat a lot.”

“I’m a growing boy, I need my food.” Akira retorted.

“Yet you still manage to fool people into thinking you never eat.”

“By _people,_ you mean Ryuji.”

Morgana’s face teeth ground together to create a sound Akira knew was a laugh.

“In his defense, I don't like eating at school.”

The cat (?) scoffed and rolled into his back, knocking three things off his desk as he did.

“I hope you're planning on picking those up.” Akira groused, eyeing the trinkets that had been sacrificed for Morgana’s comfort.

“No, not really.”

Had not a light from his phone distract Akira, he probably would have had some choice words for his companion. As it were though, the sudden illumination of the otherwise pitch black room was a more pressing priority.

“Oh gee, wonder who that is.”

“Keep that up and I won't share my fish next time.” Came the distracted response.

 

 **Ryuji:** hey you up??

 **Ryuji:** of course you are, answer your phone dude

 **Akira:** I’ll have you know I was having a wonderful dream

 **Ryuji:** i’m 80% sure you don't sleep dude

 **Ryuji:** how else would you explain the bags under your eyes???

 **Akira:** Wow rude

 **Akira:** They’re a fashion statement I’ll have you know

 **Ryuji:** but you _are_ up so i mean

 

He stopped a moment to regard the text, Ryuji wasn't technically wrong. Akira barely slept at all, hard to fight the biological clock afterall. When the sun set his body just decided it was go time, and would not let him sleep no matter what he did.

Well, Akira hadn't tried taking the _gooood_ sleep aids yet. Maybe that could be something he tried this weekend. Especially if bags were noticeable.

“Morgana, are the bags under my eyes _that_ noticeable?”

“Yes.”

His phone lit up again.

 

 **Ryuji:** sorry that was shitty

 

A small smile formed as Akira responded quickly.

 

 **Akira:** Nah you good

 **Akira:** I have taken years out of my life to master the perfect equation of basic function to sleep in order to maintain them

 **Ryuji:** sure you did dude

 

Akira moved from his perch at the edge of his bed and rolled onto his stomach. His right wing draped off the edge lazily, his feathers undoubtedly would get dusty from the contact with the floor. He couldn't really bring himself to care too much.

 

 **Akira:** Do you want to come over and play punch ouch after school???

 **Ryuji:** hell yeah man!!

 **Ryuji:** i’m going to kick your ass

 **Akira:** Oh please

 **Akira:** I’d like to see you try

 **Ryuji:** big talk coming from such a nerd

 **Akira:** Says the guy who owns _how many_ complete sets of manga?

 **Ryuji:** low blow my dude

 **Akira:** Dont dish it if you can't take it bro

 **Akira:** Futaba and I are licensed shit-talkers

 **Ryuji:** the more i know you the more i wonder how sojiro manages you guys

 **Akira:** He mostly just sighs at us

 **Akira:** And occasionally gives the ‘dad stare’

 **Akira:** Like he is debating the pros and cons of just dumbing Futaba and I in a pit somewhere

 **Akira:** Surprised he hasn't yet tbh

 **Ryuji:** honestly same

 **Ryuji:** must be because you're so effin endearing

 

There was a brief pause as Akira read the message over a few more times. The corners of his mouth tugged upwards, his chest felt warm and light. Had he not felt the blanket against his bare chest, he probably would have thought he was floating.

 

 **Akira:** Awww

 **Ryuji:** don't make it weird dude

 **Akira:** Ryuji, my friend

 **Akira:** Weird is what I do

 **Ryuji:** i mean

 **Ryuji:** fair

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeey look who updated. 
> 
> This dude updated! 
> 
> I hope you all are enjoying it so far! I've really been loving writing this, and all the comments on the last chapter were absolutely awesome! Thank you! 
> 
> Here's to Sojiro somehow raising Futaba and Akira well. Or as well as you can raise a sentient bird-thing and whatever the fuck Futaba is.
> 
> Feel free to hit up my [tumblr](https://disastergays.tumblr.com) as well if you ever wanna chat!


End file.
